Redundant
by Tsume Yuki
Summary: Yet, the third brother proved it was he who had inherited the smarts, the intelligence, of his family. He enquired, he asked for a gift that would forever hide him from Death. Death was furious. To hand over such a weapon against itself would place another being above Death, such a notion was unacceptable! Or was it? (Master of Death Harry)


**Redundant**

x ****

Once upon a time, the universe, and all that was housed within it, came into being. The dust of stars long past began to gather, forming planets, solar systems. And upon these planets, a miracle happened.

Life.

Life came about.

However, there could never be a beginning without an end. As the universe would expand, doomed only to shrink, so too would life.

And thus, so Death was born.

Death was a being, an eternity that existed outside of time. It was the inevitable end, unavoidable and to be feared above all.

Yet, still, there were those that sought to conquer it.

In another tale, three brothers once managed to beat Death back, to delay it, and when asked, the first brother sought to humiliate Death. He asked for a wand that could not be bested, so that he may have the power of Death, to chose who would live and who would die by his hand.

Without a word, Death handed the weapon over, silently promising that the eldest brother would come to regret his words, his actions.

The second brother was, perhaps, even worse. He sought to steal from Death, to bring back those whom Death had already stolen from Life.

But the brother was far too unclear with his words, left far too many loopholes.

So Death handed over a stone which would call the dead to it, and it promised that the middle brother would suffer for his words, his actions, as much as the eldest.

Death then turned to the third brother, enticing him in with the promise of magic beyond his wildest dreams.

Yet, the third brother proved it was he who had inherited the smarts, the intelligence, of his family. He enquired, he asked for a gift that would forever hide him from Death.

Death was furious.

To hand over such a weapon against itself would place another being above Death, such a notion was unacceptable!

Or was it?

The final brother just wished to continue on with his life, to never have to worry about Death until he tired of Life. It was unacceptable, no mortal was suppose to have that choice.

But Death was cunning, Death was wise.

And so, Death created a plan.

It handed over a cloak of invisibility to the youngest brother, committing the man who had almost bested it to memory.

The death of all three brothers was cemented from then on.

Or, so Death had thought.

For the first brother, he was slain in the middle of the night, Death's greatest weapon stolen from his still fingers.

The second brother handed himself over to death, drove mad from the abuse of his gift.

Upon the arrival of the second brother to its kingdom, Death sat back, and Death waited. Waited for the youngest brother, the smartest brother, to become swallowed in greed. To collect the two gifts that it had bequeathed upon the mortals that were now no longer within the family line. For the curse it had placed upon all three items to activate.

Yet, not once did the youngest brother's gaze land upon the remaining two Hallows. The third brother stuck to his own gift, never sought after another, and when his time of death came, Death bowed its head, and allowed the mortal to pass on to see the rest of his family.

Still, the curse remained.

Hundreds of years passed, humans came and went, and Death all but forgot about that little incident with the three brothers.

.

Until, seven hundred years later, something unprecedented happened.

The three Hallows were united beneath one of Peverell blood.

And so, Death's curse, Death last act against the Peverell bloodline, came into being with the rage of a tempest, overwhelming in the way it turned everything the Peverell descendant knew upside down.

For Death had know that the youngest Peverell brother would not wish to remain in the land of the living, not when all that he loved died around him. It knew the man would shed the cloak at one point.

Death could not stop the man from removing the cloak, for it was not a feature it had embedded within the garment.

But, Death had been able to adjust the terms of all three of its Hallows. For when all three were brought together by the hands of a Peverell descendant, that descendant would never be allowed to move on to the land of the dead.

Death had barred their entrance.

A curse that had been for the youngest brother, a curse to make one Death's Master -for a servant could never harm the master-, had finally ensnared one of the brother's bloodline.

The boy had broken when he was told this, that he would never be allowed to see his family on the other side, to witness all that he loved die around him, a consequence of his ancestor's actions.

It was as satisfying as it would have been had the youngest brother been trapped. Death had won once again, and now, it had company, for the rest of eternity.

Oh, the boy had tried, and cried and begged and pleaded, but Death would not be moved.

And as the boy continued through time, untouched by the growth of Life, or the creeping hands of Death, he watched all that he loved died.

His rage had been a lovely thing to behold, the magic pouring off of his form, swirling around and raging in the most beautiful of ways.

That, that had been where it all went wrong.

For the boy had then turned upon Death, turned upon his servant, and ordered it away.

To simply cease being.

For if he were to continue on, he would do so with no strings attached to his form, he would be free of any connections in his unnatural, deathly life.

Death had made a mistaken, made a mistake with this bloodline for the second time.

For where the boy's ancestor had been distant, the youngest brother's descendant was ferocious.

He had nothing to lose, and certainly he held no love for Death.

With no other option, Death crumpled, crumpled like the universe would do millions of billions of years in the future.

.

Left alone, with no companion and only eternity stretching ahead of him, Harry James Potter stared out into the abyss, and the abyss stared back.

* * *

 **I just really wanted to write some Harry. Sorry that updates are slow; Uni is awful, and Third year is terrible, and if anyone can recommend me some reading on Yayoi Kusama, or female artists in the 1960's America, then I'd be forever grateful.**

 **If there's ever a sequel for this, it'll be Death!Harry looking for a companion, either in Tom or Grindelwald. I'm not promising anything though.**

 **Tsume  
xxx**


End file.
